


Wraith

by JoAsakura



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-16
Updated: 2017-01-19
Packaged: 2018-07-24 07:30:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,208
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7499466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JoAsakura/pseuds/JoAsakura
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"We'll finish this like we started it. Together"</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Wraith

**Author's Note:**

> Every time I see an awesome Reaper!Morrison pic on tumblr, this idea lodges harder in my head.
> 
> a what-might-be for the Language of Memory series.

_All our times have come_   
_Here, but now they're gone_   
_Seasons don't fear the reaper_   
_Nor do the wind, the sun or the rain_   
_(We can be like they are)_

~~

Twelve miles underground, the Talon base smells like  death. Not the scent of burning, abyssal metal and old-basement  that Jack associates with Gabriel (and all the attendant sensations that come along with it).

It smells like human death. Copper-sharp blood, shit, fear. They stayed behind to place the bombs, to ensure an end to this. Lena’s screaming in the comms and Jack tries to draw his legs up, but they’re both ruined and some of that copper smell is him. (He doesn’t look. He doesn’t have to, to know the size of the hole in his gut.)

Beside him, Gabriel struggles to maintain cohesion, coiling and shuddering in on himself, forcing himself to maintain the illusion of humanity. He had held the line while Jack set the timers, round after round of Talon turret ammo vanishing into him to be reupurposed into an endless stream of shotguns, until the repair protocols that held him together began to fail under the onslaught.

“Tracer, Lena.” Jack rasps into his comms, one hand finding Gabriel’s. “Get the team out of here. There’s nothing more you can do.”

“Symmetra’s building another teleporter, luv.” Lena’s doing that thing, and he smiles a little bit, picturing her brave face. “Quick as a bunny we’ll be.”

“Not enough time. This whole base is going up in just a few. It’s going to collapse the whole plain. You need to be airborne when that happens. That is an order, Lena. You need to get the team back to Ana.”

Silence, then: “Yes sir, Commander.”

“Good girl.” He whispers, flagging off the comms. 

“We had a good run.” Gabriel muses, claws twining with Jack’s fingers, and he sounds like a shitty recording of himself as he dissolves his mask back into the messy fog of his body. “For two dead men.”

“If I could go back in time, I’d tell them to shove that promotion.” Jack laughs, trying to find a comfortable position against the wall. With his free hand, he pries off his own faceplate, blue eyes milky pale as he turns to Gabriel. "I'd do things different. I wouldn't waste twenty years."

“Jack..” There’s a undulation of tarry black as Gabriel assumes something resembling a sitting position. “What..?”

“I don’t know. I just wanted to try and look at you without the targeting overlay. It’s been a while.” Jack squeezes his hand. “I’m just mad we’re not gonna get to see the fuckers in the council.. those chess-playing sons of bitches who put all of this in motion.. we’re not gonna get to see them go down.” He adds with a hollow laugh.

“Jack.” Gabriel’s shattering form flows over him like a thick fog, features stuttering and warping as red-black eyes fix him hard. “Do you trust me?”

“I always did. I always should have.” Jack’s eyes slide shut as Gabriel’s hands cup his face. 

“I think I know a way for us to see it through, if you don’t mind the whole nanomachine colony thing.” Gabriel’s turn to laugh, but it sounds like static on a mis-tuned car radio. 

“Do it.” Jack presses his scarred face into Gabriel’s discorpreating palm. “Let’s finish it like we started it.”

“Together.” Gabriel says, what’s left of his lips on Jack’s as the timers hit zero.

~~

Lena is beating against the hands holding her back as the transport. McCree, Widowmaker, Winston’s massive, warm arms holding her tight as the prairie below them heaves as if some monstrous beast is breaching from beneath, then caves in on itself with a thunderous roar.

The silence is almost as deafening, and she can’t breathe. If she can just turn back her timeline enough, just enough, she can get to them... And she’s about to try when the earth churns again, smoke from some deep, underground fire belching upwards. For a moment, the billowing black looks like a raven, screaming from the depths of hell.

And that’s when she’s sure.

“GENJI, PUT US DOWN, NOW!” Lena screams, squirming free as the smoke billows and roils. She’s certain it’s Reaper’s shadow step, knows he wouldn’t leave 76 behind. Knows *Gabriel* wouldn’t leave *Jack*, not again. Not ever.

The hood, the long coat, forming out of the smoke are familiar, but not. Ashy white, piped in black and red. The long sleeves covering almost to the tips of armoured claws. This not-quite-Reaper hoists some double-barreled pulse rifle over his shoulder and looks up as she streaks downwards in a blaze of blue light. 

It’s not Reaper’s mask. It’s not 76′s either. Something in between them both and Lena covers her mouth.

“Who.. who are you?” She asks. “Jack? Gabriel?”

“Ghost.” He says, voice low and rough and hollow as he pulls off the mask. She can see them both in the face that’s revealed. A flash of terrifying teeth, too many eyes blinking in the shadows of the hood as he seems to work out an average between two sets of features. “After all, it’s what we’ve both been all along.”

 

~~

_Come on baby_   
_(Don't fear the reaper)_   
_Baby take my hand_   
_(Don't fear the reaper)_   
_We'll be able to fly_   
_(Don't fear the reaper)_   
_Baby I'm your man_

 


	2. Haunted (bonus chapter)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We're all alone together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I genuinely did not expect such a wonderful reaction to this fic. It has really encouraged me to explore more with Ghost and what he might mean to the team.
> 
> This is just a little thank you, for now.

Ghost had existed for less than an hour when he suddenly realised he might be someone else.

On their return to Overwatch's makeshift HQ, no one had spoken to him. Eventually, McCree (of course McCree. Always McCree, with an open hand rather than a gun if he could) had tried. Called him "The Spirit of 76" which Ghost had found genuinely funny, but had bit the laughter down behind his mask when he'd seen the horrified expression on Tracer's face.

And in that moment, in the uncomfortable silence of the transport, he realised there was no "we" in the thought. He had Jack Morrison's memories. He had Gabriel Reyes' memories.

And his reaction had been something else entirely.

Genji had clearly radioed ahead because the hangar was filled. He tried to explain. That it didn't change anything, except it changed everything because no matter how many sons of bitches he was planning on shooting in the face, it wasn't Soldier:76 or Reaper standing in front of them.

Torbjorn spit on the floor and stalked off. Reinhardt started to cry. Ghost felt a surge of guilt. The German had already buried them once before. Mercy just turned away. Tracer clearly wanted to say something, but the words kept dying on her lips.

He just left then, let his feet carry him, powered by memory.

Almost immediately, Zenyatta floated beside him. "Do you mind the company?"

Ghost froze for a second, then nodded. "Thanks." (A strange, mangled feelings. Both Jack and Gabriel nursed old hurts from the Omnic crisis. Jack had tried not to hold it against Zenyatta.) After another moment, he pulled off his mask, letting it shift back into smoke, vanishing into his uniform along with the gun.

"Are you all right?" The Omnic asked gently. (Ghost.. Not Jack, not Gabriel.. Appreciated that. The world might have needed a bit more kindness) "Suddenly being can be quite a shock."

"We'll.." He started reflexively as they continued down the corridor to Jack's quarters. "I'll be fine. I need to process, I think." In the window were sunflowers. Gabriel had loved them. "The nanomachine colony that housed Gabriel Reyes’s consciousness - devoured the biomatter- every chemical and electrical signal, every atom, that made up Jack Morrison, and reconfigured into… me.” Ghost ran a claw over the petals. “I know everything they both did. Sadness, ego, regret, doubt, and ultimately? Trust, love. They gave up everything so I could exist and carry on.”

"You seem calmer than your... fathers." Zenyatta observed, and Ghost looked away.

"We still have a war ahead of us. Overwatch needs them. It's going to have to make do with me." He said ruefully. "I think I'd like to be alone."

The next day:

After 24 hours, Ghost was absolutely certain he was someone else, and he didn't like it much at all.

Ghost stood in the middle of what had been Jack Morrison’s quarters. He’d traded his armour for *real* clothes - one of Jack’s shirts (too small, they smelled like old spice and gun oil) and a pair of sweatpants that had clearly once been Gabriel’s (too large, and they smelled like burning ammunition in a wet basement)

He was surrounded by boxes, trying to figure out what he needed. For it to be home.

It didn’t feel like it, and he sighed, flopping on the floor in an ashy poof of nanobots, reforming in clothes that fit like borrowed skin. The haze roiled fitfully around him for a moment, then curled back into his skin, and he examined his hand. Brown in some places, pale in others. A hand that remembered so many things that it hadn’t done.

It felt like it needed to reach out for someone, but there was no one there to take it, and he let it fall to the ground with a thunk.

“Ghost, is it?” Ana’s voice came from the doorway and he sat up, momentarily scattering before sorting himself again. She smiled, just a little. “May I come in?”

“Yes. Of course.” He stood up quickly. (Old respect, old friendship. They had loved her in their way. She had been family.) “It’s good to see you, Ana. I hope you’re not going to spit on me, like Torbjorn did?” (He winced at how petty that had been. Everyone assumed Gabriel was the petty one, but Jack. Jack could be even worse.)

“You’ve chosen a new face from theirs.” She said bluntly, making her way to the threadbare couch Jack had carried from somewhere. “Gabriel’s lips, Jack’s jawline. That nose is both of them. Younger, a bit.” She laughed. “It suits you.”

“They didn’t know what would happen. I don’t think.. ” Ghost sat beside her. “I’m not sure that we.. That I was what was supposed to happen. And their scars? Those lines? They earned them, and, I haven’t. I.. I don't even know who *I'm* supposed to be. I was supposed to be *we*." (I _was_ We. And then I wasn't.)

“Who do you want to be, Ghost?” Ana brushed a lock of white hair from his forehead. "What do you want to do?"

“I was born to end Talon, to end the politicians and power brokers who profit from the Omnic Crisis, who profit from pain and war.” Ghost said firmly, back straight. “That was their wish. That I do this. That *we* would end this.”

“That’s a mission, son.” Ana took his hand. “That’s not life goals.”

“I don’t have a life goal.” Ghost sunk into the seat. “I mean. I’m not actually.. Alive.” He looked away, and Ana chuckled. “I'm not human. I'm... Well." He sighed, letting his skin ripple and coil in a shiver of grey smoke.

"Are you stable?" Ana asked and Ghost blinked at the concern in her voice.

"I'm stable." He felt a little smile pull at his mouth, and there was a sudden ripple, embarrassment as he felt a flicker of monstrous eyes at the edge of his face. "Jack's biomatter stabilized Gabriel's matrix. Mostly."

Ana laughed softly and waited for him to compose himself. "It's slightly less unnerving than when Gabriel would do it."

"But I know I DO unnerve everyone. Badly. Except for Zenyatta.” Ghost mused.

“Give them time. It's funny, but I think you're exactly the child they would have brought into the world. And you, Ghost Morrison-Reyes, might not be quite human, but you are very much alive.” Ana took his hand with another hearty laugh. “And you are very much a part of this team. They believe that as much as I do.”

“Then why do I..” Ghost started, looking at his hand, patches of dark and pale scattered there. “Why do I feel so alone?” His red-black eyes met her amber ones. “Twenty years of fighting in public, making up in private. Hating each other, loving each other. But now, there’s just.. Me.”

“Oh, darling.” Ana touched his cheek. “Everyone is alone in their own skin. You just came to it in a different way than most people. But we’re all alone together.”

“I don’t understand.” Ghost scowled, features shifting for a moment in frustration he didn't even try to hide.

“Is it safe to come in?” Reinhardt poked his massive torso through the door.

“Of course, Reinhardt.” Ana beckoned him in.

The huge German strode in and scooped up Ghost in a massive embrace. “I am sorry for before, so welcome home, my boy. I miss my friends, but I _am_ glad you are here.” He sobbed, squeezing him hard enough to make nanomachine colony matrix’s repair protocols scream in panic.

Ghost was moments away from oozing away in a cloud of smoke when he caught Ana’s gaze. “If you poof away, I will suck you up in a shop vac.” She mouthed, smiling.

And for a moment, trapped in Reinhardt’s embrace, Ghost felt as if he were home.

Maybe being someone new wasn't so bad after all.


	3. What to Make of Him

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ghost settles in at Overwatch as Winston tries to figure out how to react to him.
> 
> Originally posted on tumblr (so if you've seen it there, this is nothing new) - but I figured I would add it here just to keep Ghost's story in one place!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am really amazed and pleased at the reaction Ghost has gotten. Thank you everyone!

To be perfectly honest, Winston- for all his genius and skill - never, EVER understood the relationship between Jack and Gabriel. Lena had described it as “tempestuous”, McCree as “buck-ass crazy” and neither definition helped clarify it in any sense.

He had seen the genuine fury roll off each one of them in meetings, only to catch a glimpse of them the next day, Jack’s head resting on Gabriel’s shoulder as they read reports together.

He knew well enough that Jack wasn’t the perfect golden boy- The Strike Commander was a human battering ram with a heart of gold. Someone who would rather lead with an open hand, and not a closed fist, who loved Gabriel Reyes with every cell of his being. But he was also someone with not enough sense to stay down when he should have, a short, frequently petty fuse and a stubborn streak a mile wide. The media took that stubbornness to be methodical, deliberate, but it was more that once Jack got on a path, getting him off it was like steering the Titanic, with frequently similarly disastrous results.

And he knew Gabriel - as much as they had never quite gotten along - was hardly the dark, violent plotter in their midst, no matter how much that angle had been played up in the aftermath of Geneva. It was true that the Blackwatch Commander had the people skills of a particularly angry potato, but Gabriel cared for his team, loved Jack as fiercely as he was loved in return and had a mind quicker than Winston had ever seen in a human. What the media had seen as volatile was simply because Gabriel Reyes could assess a situation and make adaptations to it as fast as changes arose. He was ferociously brilliant and driven.

It was no wonder their enemies had sought to keep them apart, because together they had been a terror. For everyone.  
And now, in the back of their transport, wedged in between Pharah and Bastion, was the ultimate expression of that terror, slumped down in an ashy white coat, hood pulled over his masked face as far as it would go.

Winston sighed, adjusting their flight pattern. Ghost smelled strange, acted stranger, and he wasn’t sure how to deal with him at all.

  
~~

  
“I gotta ask you something.” McCree said, leaning forward in the tight confines of the seating area. Ghost looked around, as if there was someplace he could escape to, and when he saw there was no exit, turned to the cowboy with obvious trepidation. On either side of McCree, Hanzo and Genji both covered their faces in anticipatory shame  
“…shoot.” He said, clutching the massive rifle in front of him as if it might make a barrier.

“What’s it like in your head? Like, are they fightin’ in there like two cats in a sack?” McCree asked and Hanzo scrubbed his hands over his face. “I’m serious, can you imagine Morrison and Reyes stuck in yer head fer eternity? COME ON.” He gestured at Ghost and Genji leaned his head back against the bulkhead with a loud clank. The rest of the strike team groaned in displeasure.

“It’s more..” Ghost started softly, and the seating area quieted. “Being in a circle of hell where you have to watch your parents have sex forever.”

“Oh my god.” McCree pulled his hat down in disgust. “Ok, I’m sorry I asked.”

Winston wasn’t sure, but he thought Ghost might be grinning under the mask.

  
~~~

  
When Ghost’s Ultimate let loose for the first time, Winston thought they were all going to die. At the very least, he thought Ghost was dead, again.

They were taking heavy fire, low on medical kits and ammo, when he saw wings. One black, one gold, furling out of the dirty white of Ghost’s coat. And for one moment, it was beautiful. Then he vanished into the howling maelstrom of the Phoenix and they were surrounded by a cloud of darkness.

A minute of terror as they heard the Talon operatives scream, and then the warm glow of a biotic healing field. Nothing like Mercy’s, but enough to push their injuries back, enough to get them on their feet as it knocked back the enemy.

When it was over, Ghost reformed out of the swarming black and his knees buckled, taking one shaky step, then flopping down onto his rear.

“That was something else.” Pharah muttered, and there was a moment of awkward silence before McCree started to cough like a cat with the biggest hairball ever.

“Oh god. I think I swallowed one of Ghost’s.. Bits.” He gagged out. “Maybe more than one.”

“It won’t hurt you.” Ghost flopped onto the ground. “Or maybe it will turn you into a biomechanical abomination like me.” He added weakly.

There was a ripple of nervous laughter and Winston sighed. He still had no idea what to make of him.

  
~~

  
“We should offer to cook. Everyone likes a barbecue.” Jack Morrison’s voice drifted softy from the darkened corridor and Winston froze, holding the purloined jar of peanut butter to his chest. That was not something one expected at 2am. The sound of a…

He snorted softly. The sound of a Ghost.

“No one wants to eat anything we cook. Except for Ana, because she’s polite.” Gabriel Reyes’ reply wafted back. “And McCree, but that’s because he’s stupid and he’ll eat anything, you know that.”

Winston crept over to a faint sliver of flickering light. Morrison’s old quarters, and pushed up his glasses as he peered through the cracked door.

The TV was tuned to some old novela, the sound turned down too low to hear whatever dramatic revelation was playing. And in front of it Ghost sat miserably, having a conversation with two hand puppets. “You guys are zero help. I don’t even know why I asked.” He said in a soft, low voice. The light from the TV lit his white hair a faintly silver-blue tinge, and his eyes burned red in the gloom. He looked terribly young.

Winston was about to write it off as funny and awkward until he noticed the paper masks fixed to each one, and he held the jar a little tighter. He took a deep breath and pushed the door open. In a sudden ashy poof, Ghost was on his feet, the sock puppets discarded in the smoke. “Winston.” He said in Jack’s best Serious Voice.

“I didn’t mean to interrupt.” The gorilla chuckled. “But I think you’re overthinking this. The puppets are a nice touch, though.”

“Let’s keep the puppets to ourselves.” Ghost rocked on his feet.

“I swear to you, I won’t tell a soul.” Winston gave him a smile. “And I’ll eat whatever you cook up, too.”

When Ghost gave him a grateful grin in return, he thought, maybe he knew what to make of him after all.


	4. Trick or Treat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Halloween is not what Ghost expected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a little Halloween bit for Ghost.

Ghost blinked awake, bundled in a heavy quilt, late day sunlight streaming through the curtains.

He yawned, and pushed himself upright, rubbing his eyes. The room was cheerful, the yellow walls festooned with posters of his heroes. D.Va flashing a victory sign over his desk, Retro!Reinhardt brandishing a hammer next to his bed. The windowsill was lined with his Marimo, and it was quiet, except for the soft sounds of the TV from the living room. A bright autumn leaf fell from the tree and stuck to the window.

Gingerly, he set his stuffed pachimari aside and pushed his way out of bed, padding across the carpet. He picked up one of the action figures on his bookcase - Reaper, his vinyl coat fading on the edges, his shotguns long gone. 76 beside him and Ghost smoothed over a nick in the tiny plastic pulse rifle. The edges of Reinhardt's armour were worn smooth and he carefully arranged them on the shelf.

"Well, someone's awake." Dad's voice from the door, and Ghost startled as Jack walked in, the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes prominent in the sunlight. He knelt down next to Ghost and gently pressed their foreheads together. "Feels like your fever's down"

Nearby, Reinhardt fell over, hammer clattering to the floor.

Ghost snuggled against Jack's broad chest. "I had a weird dream." He muttered as Dad scooped him up.

"You wanna tell me about it, kiddo?" Jack sat them down on the bed and Ghost scowled.

"I was big. I was in Overwatch, like you and Pop."

"Let me guess, you had a suit of power armour, Just like Uncle Reinhardt, right?" Jack rocked him, and Ghost shook his head.

"No, I was like Pop." He paused. "And you." Ghost thought about it, looking at his hands. "It seemed so real."

"Well, maybe we should've made you a costume like that for Halloween." Jack laughed. "It was my cool jacket, right?"

"No, it was more like Pop's and.. Wait. HALLOWEEN." Ghost squirmed to glare at his father. "It's tonight, I gotta get ready!"

"You feeling up to this, kiddo?" Jack stared down at him, as the boy squished his face. Nearby, Reinhardt fell over, hammer clattering to the floor.

"CANDY." Ghost said with utter seriousness, eyes wide. "CANDY, DAD, ARE YOU KIDDING."

Jack laughed. "Gabriel, your unholy spawn is demanding an offering of sugar!" He called to the kitchen. Outside, a bright autumn leaf fell and stuck to the window.

Ghost peered over Jack's shoulder as Pop stuck his head in the room, dark eyes full of mirth. "Well it just so happens I fixed the hole in your costume after you decided to let Roomba get ahold of it." He came in, and set the jumpsuit on the bed. "Next time, don't let the dog mess with your stuff, kiddo." Gabriel laughed, kneeling next to the bed and leaning his elbows on Jack's leg. "Now go gear up, soldier, you've got a mission to complete."

~~

"I don't know, Gabe. If there was anymore reflective tape on that he'd look like a traffic cone, not a Ghostbuster." Dad rubbed his chin as Ghost shrugged on the backpack for his candy.

"I am all about safety." Pop laughed. "Now get out there and remember, give 'em hell."

Ghost turned, watching Dad settle his chin on Pop's shoulder. Behind him, out in the street, children ran and shrieked from house to house. He watched one girl in a spider costume run past. And as he turned to follow her path, there was one kid in a geometric skull mask staring at him.

He turned back to look at the men in the doorway, still standing there. "Don't be scared, kiddo." Jack said as he waved. "We're always with you." A fog was rolling in down the street. Pop reached down to pet the dog.

The house was small, blue shingles and white shutters. Red-tinged maple trees shedding in the yard. A brindle pit bull grinning at their feet, and Ghost realised he had no idea where he was.

"Dad. Pop." He said in a small voice, as he heard the children shriek and run from house to house.

One girl in a spider costume ran past. A fog was rolling down the street.

A bright leaf drifted from the tree and stuck against his bedroom window.

"You got a mission, junior." Pop said as he reached down to pet the dog. "Go out and get 'em." Dad waved.

The kid in the skull mask was staring at him.

"This isn't real." Ghost said, and turned to the other child. "This isn't happening. I was never a child."

Shrieking. Spider costume. Fog. Dad waving. Pop petting the dog. Over and over.

"Oh look at Pinocchio over here. I just thought you'd like to be a real boy for once, Ghost." She said. "I could make so much nicer if you'd stop fighting me instead of glitching my matrix vibe."

"Sombra." Ghost turned to her, small hands balling up into fists. Leaf. Spider. Fog. Dog. Wave over and over and over.

"Reaper had some backdoor issues with his nanite code, your defenses are a little better." She said from behind the mask. "But I didn't have a beef with him. I don't really have one with you, either, Baby Reaper. I just thought I'd give you a little treat with the tricks."

Ghost turned back, Jack and Gabriel frozen in mid-motion. The girl in a spider costume jittering and blocky as she shuddered past. Fog. His fog, ashy grey as it disassembled the blue house, the red trees.

(You got a mission, Junior.)

He could feel the wings unfurling from his back, black and gold, the Phoenix ult brewing in his artificial veins. "Get out of my code, Sombra." He growled, jumpsuit shifting into his long, dirty-white coat. "GET OUT OF MY FUCKING HEAD!"

The world shattered around him as he roared, the storm of his ult swarming down the corridors as he came back to reality. "Winston!" He tapped his comms, memory coming back in a rush. They'd been having a brief party, a little Halloween fun when the lights had gone out. "Winston! SHUT OFF THE WIFI SHUT OFF THE ROUTERS, I'VE BEEN COMPROMISED, YOU HAVE TO CLEAR BASTION, ZEN AND GENJI AND ATHENA WE'RE IN DANGER!"

"I'm on it, I'm on it" He heard Winston yelling back. "We've got some sort of psychoactive gas hitting some of the others."

"I'm clearing it now and we're dealing with Sombra. GET THOSE DEFENSES UP." Ghost roared as he pulled himself back together, legs like jelly as he staggered down the hallway, looking for the others.

(You got a mission, Junior. Get out there and get 'em.)

Ghost clutched Hellblaster to his chest, the gun's massive weight a comfort as he stumbled forward. "You're always with me." He said to himself. "I know you're always with me."


	5. Ghost Stories (collected shorts)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes I write Ghost WIPs that may not make it into a finished fic. Sometimes I take prompts on tumblr - and sometimes people ask me to fill the prompts with Ghost stories :D
> 
> These are those shorts.

 

**And a child sees the ocean for the first time.**

 

Ghost is roughly thirty-six hours old when he sees the ocean for the first time.

In the back of his brain, he has a thousand memories. Gabriel laughing and shrieking to his mother’s arms as the pacific rolls up against Hermosa Beach. Jack seeing the ocean for the first time under the Florida sun at Fort Rudder.

(Gabriel almost drowning as a downed transport drags him under in the cold North, Jack fighting to free him as the team takes fire on the wreckage above.)

He saw the sea rolling beneath them as they returned to Gibraltar, but he was still Becoming, then. He was Them and Him and it didn’t register in the mass of Everything Else.

But now, the moon rising overhead, he slips down to Sandy Bay and stares at the tide coming in.

And he’s terrified. It’s so much bigger than either of them remembers, jaded by short-burst trans-oceanic flights. The horizon stretches out, stained by the setting sun and he can’t imagine how the earliest humans could bear to set out across it. Or leave it, maybe.

Very cautiously, Ghost slips Jack Morrison’s boots off and takes one step, then another, into the sand, feeling the grit and the poke of shells against his bare, new skin. When he reaches the edge, where sea and sand mingle, he drops to his knees, feeling the damp soak through the worn fabric of Gabriel Reyes’ sweatpants. The smell of the ocean - cold salt and sun and that peculiar funk of seaweed or fish or wet *something* that defines the Atlantic- fills his nose while the rush of the tide fills his ears like a mother’s heartbeat.

The waves rush in, pushing against him and Ghost resists the urge to break apart and let the tide carry his foggy form out with it. “Fuck you both.” He laughs, just a bit, as the water comes and goes. “I wish you were here.”

* * *

**Take a deep breath.**

 

Ghost’s memories sometimes feel like a badly synched 3D movie. One channel from Gabriel, one channel from Jack, looking at the same event.

He wakes from a half-sleep, thinking about the North Atlantic. They’d been shot down during the omnic crisis, and he remembers Gabriel, ankle trapped in the gunship, two thousand pounds of metal dragging him under as they hit the surface of the water like a bomb. Jumbled, bubbles, and there’s Reinhardt tearing the ship apart, and Jack’s in vision, and Gabriel’s in Jack’s- all panic, lungs burning, and he presses his mouth to the other’s, and Gabriel reads the unspoken message in Jack’s bright eyes. “Take a deep breath. Share my air. Let my heart beat for the two of us till we get you to the surface.”

_And then_.

Jack is bleeding out in a Talon base with a hundred pounds of high explosives all around them. He’s cold, he’s so cold that he doesn’t even really feel the the pain of the hole in his gut anymore. And Gabriel’s in his vision, and Jack’s in Gabriel’s- all static and image loss as the nanomachine colony that makes up his body breaks down. And they make a promise together, and Gabriel’s mouth cover’s Jack’s, and the unspoken message is in the red depths of Gabriel’s eyes.

“Take a deep breath, share my being. Let my broken body save us both until we get to the surface.

And Ghost takes a deep breath in the darkness of his room, and holds it for as long as he can.

 

* * *

**Rage**

“You don’t think I worry about what something like you is capable of? Of what that machine that wore my dead friend’s face was capable of?” Torbjorn spat, his forge-hand twitching. “You’re a technological disaster looking for a place to happen!”

“You want to know what I’m capable of, little man?” Ghost’s shoulders heaved as he felt the rage bubble up inside of him. The room began to fill up with heavy grey smoke, spectral faces storming inside of the billiowing gloom

“YOU WANT TO SEE WHAT I CAN DO?” they all roared and for a moment, Torbjorn was blinded by the hail of nanomachines swarming everywhere.

The engineer staggered back as the swarm curled and coiled, rushing past him, and then suddenly reformed, leaving Ghost panting in the middle of the workshop. Steam rose off his dirty white coat, and a thick fog churned around him.

Torbjorn looked around the workshop in quiet horror. Everything, every nut, every bolt, every partially constructed weapon he’d been tinkering with, was gone.

The floor shook as the first half-built turret fell out of the fog, then the next, then a rain of components, tinkling against the concrete and finally, with a clang, Torbjorn’s welding mask.

The engineer reached up to feel for the one he’d been wearing, and stared as Ghost took a step, then collapsed to his knees, heated air hissing around him. He exhaled a stream of inky mist, coughing, and ran a hand over his face, ensuring he still wore a human face.

“I’m a biomechanical nanomatrix fog with flash assembler capabilities, but that doesn’t make me an engineering problem to be solved.” Ghost rasped.  “If I could figure out how to untangle myself and rebuild them like I just did all of your crap, I would do it, I WOULD DO IT IN A SECOND. But they’re gone, and I’m a PERSON, just like Genji. Just like Zenyatta. I might be different but I’m NOT A **THING**!!”

* * *

 

**Finding treasure on the beach.**

 

Ghost was busy sorting out a pile of seeming-garbage when the bright sun overhead was suddenly blocked. He peered up at the massive German with a grin. “Reinhardt.”

“I was wondering where my 1992 Hasseloff shirt had gotten off to.” The big man huffed a laugh and sat down beside him, plucking at the oversized shirt flapping on Ghost’s frame as the sea breeze freshened.

“I swear I’m going to return it.” Ghost ducked his head, brushing sand off of the faded old sweatpants that smelled less and less like an old tire fire every day, and more like the odd ozone scent Ghost put off. 

“Phah. Keep it. I have others.” Reinhardt laughed. “You and Bastion have been down here all morning. What are you two up to?”

“It’s a contest, which one of us can find the strangest thing on the beach.” Ghost laughed, coils of ashy smoke curling around the treasures laid out on his towel.  “I’m sure I’m going to win. See this?” He held up a thin strand of corroded metal.

“Mmhm.” The big man quirked an eyebrow and Ghost snorted.

“The magic to being a roving clump of nanomachines is I figured out how to scan stuff, break it down, see what it’s made of.” The younger man crowed, pushing white curls out of his face as his eyes shifted to compensate for a sudden flash of sunlight on the ocean. 

“Like when you rearranged everything in Torbjorn’s workshop?” Reinhardt asked gently.

“That was. That was a temper tantrum.” Ghost replied, shaking his head. “Anyways, this is off a Greek ship. Close to two thousand years old. “ He set the wire down. “Pop bottle, circa the early 20th century.” He showed off a glinting piece of sea glass. “And..”  He picked up the last bit, a hollowed curve of sea-scored metal.

Reinhardt frowned. “That’s a piece of an omnic.” He said softly, taking it from Ghost. 

“Do you remember when we… when you took Gibraltar back during the early days of the war?” Ghost drew his knees up. “This place looked so different then.”

“I’m glad it looks different now. It was not a good thing, what this place saw.” The bigger man rumbled and handed Ghost back the piece.

“Can I ask you a question?” Ghost said, slowly, turning the piece over in his hands. 

“Anything.”

“I know what kind of horror show Eichenwald was.” Ghost set the piece back down and fidgeted furiously with the hem of his shirt. “And I also know that you’ve been more accepting of Bastion on the team than almost anyone. Even Jack had a lot of issues with having them around. Honestly so did Gabriel after he rejoined, internal hypocrisy well noted. But you faced their unit. And..”

Reinhardt let out a long sigh. “I don’t believe the people who say war shows us who we truly are. War makes monstrous choices for us. War forces our demons to the surface in too many instances. We all did what we did during the Crisis, I choose to not let that define me now. And I choose to offer an open hand, not a closed fist.” He ruffled Ghost’s hair. “I’m still sorry I reacted the way I did at first when you came to us.”

Ghost swatted him away with a laugh. “It’s ok. It was a pretty understandable…” He trailed off as he watched Bastion trundle out of the water, beeping happily as it dragged a massive anchor behind them. “HEY NO I TOLD YOU IT STOPS BEING THE BEACH AFTER IT GOES UNDERWATER! ” He shouted, shifting upright in a column of irritated fog. “DAMNIT! THAT’S CHEATING!” He added as the omnic beeped something that sounded suspiciously like a taunt.

“For the record, I’m happy both of you are here.” The big man leaned back on his elbows and squinted out at the ocean.

“Just for being mushy, i’m never giving back the shirt.” Ghost muttered, sinking down into the oversized shirt with a snort.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would be totally remiss in not mentioning the lovely art that people have done for Ghost! I'm incredibly grateful for everyone who enjoys him and especially if he inspires stuff. It's humbling. Thank you. ^_^
> 
>  
> 
> https://archiveofourown.org/works/8404945/chapters/19258471 - Caw_Caw_MotherF did a wonderful pic for him!
> 
> http://discourteouscuttlefish.tumblr.com/tagged/joasakura - discourteouscuttlefish has done some HILARIOUS and adorable stuff for him
> 
> http://unisdoodles.tumblr.com/tagged/ghost - unisdoodles has done some amazing art for him, including rendering his alt-skins!!!!
> 
> http://jara257.tumblr.com/post/147698739154/lies-down-holy-shit-this-concept-is-so-good - jara257 did this fantastic set for him!
> 
> and finally http://superkamiokande.tumblr.com/post/147608850182/superkamiokande-for-that-one-fanfiction-i superkamiokande not only did the first piece of art for the fic, but designed his gun as well.
> 
> For everything on tumblr that I know about (including my own stuff), it can be found here: http://joasakura.tumblr.com/tagged/ghost/


	6. The Devil in the Deep Blue Sea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I used the Reaper 76 Week prompt "Time off" to finally get off my butt and finish this chapter.
> 
> Hana drags Ghost and the team off for a shopping trip in Korea. 
> 
> It goes as well as planned.

**0900, Watchpoint Gibraltar, residential wing.**

“This is an abomination and it needs to stop right this second.” Hana said, a tiny, scowling blockade in a bright floral outfit straight out of a k-style mag.

Ghost clutched the container of milk a little closer to his chest and blinked, resisting the urge to just dissolve into smoke and ooze around her. “As an abomination, I take that personally, Hana.” He said, shifting uncomfortably. He was wearing a Hasselhoff tour shirt clearly fit for an aging crusader twice his size and a pair of Adidas slides, and Hana’s pointed gaze made it obvious she didn’t think he was wearing any pants under it. “And yes, before you ask, I AM wearing pants.”

“You haven’t been outside since Sombra…” She paused. “You just spend all your time between missions lurking around like an old man eating cereal.”

“Technically I’m two old men.” Ghost scowled back at her, straightening his back to gain the full impact of his size to absolutely no effect. “And I like cereal.”

Hana stomped up to him and squished his face with her hands. “Ghost, you have got to get out and DO something!”

Ghost felt a couple of extra eyes twitch and flicker. “Hana, I don’t **have** to do anything except eat my cereal, and honestly, even that’s kind of optional.”

“Ghost, I’m serious, you..” She started, quieting when Genji laid a hand on her shoulder. “UGH. Wheels up in an hour, scrublord. Wear pants.” She stabbed a finger at him and stalked off.

The cyborg shook his head, scarred face crinkling in a smile. It was jarring, Ghost realised. He was so used to seeing Genji in armour, that the bright casual outfit he wore, his spiked green hair standing tall, was a shock. “She means well.” He said, following Ghost into his quarters.

“I know. But I’m fine.” Ghost stepped around the piles of ammunition and Roomba parts that littered the floor and flopped on the couch to assemble his meal. “I don’t need an outing.”

Genji peered in his closet, pulling out a collection of black tactical trousers, compression shirts and sweats, none of which fit quite right. “I know you don’t need an outing. But we’re all worried about you.” He glanced back and forth between two shirts that were identical except for the bullet holes and stains. “Which one do you like better?”

Ghost shoveled a spoonful of cereal in his mouth. “I feel like this is a trap.”  He said as Genji laid out a pair of pants and some boots. “Is this a trap, Shimada?”

“You feel vulnerable.” Genji sat on the arm of the couch.

“I don’t.” Ghost said as he shoved the spoon entirely in his mouth. “Mostly.”

“Ghost, I can’t know what you’re feeling, not exactly, but I know what it’s like to feel exposed and fragile and…” Genji slid off the arm of the couch to sit beside him as the entire bowl of cereal vanished into a coil of ashy smoke. “Alone.”

“I do.  And I hate it.” Ghost drew his knees up. “I hate knowing that she was... that… I hated seeing what could have been.”

“I won’t force you, but I’m going with Hana and the others and we would love it if you’d come with us.” Genji ruffled Ghost’s hair and stood up. “She hasn’t been home in a while, and it means a lot to her to bring friends. Also, I left you out the shirt with the least number of bullet holes in it.”

“…Jack sat with you when you were in recovery.” Ghost said, and Genji froze. “He used to ruffle your hair like that.”

“He also snuck me pocky against Angela’s wishes, if you remember.” Genji laughed.

“He could only get the strawberry ones.” Ghost poofed over to the pile of clothes. “Wheels up in forty five. I guess I need to get changed.”

“See you in the bay.”

~~

Of all the people gathering in the launch bay, Ghost was surprised to see Satya fidgeting at the edges, fingers nervously smoothing the blue and yellow abstract figures on her dress. “Symmetra?”

She startled and pressed her lips together, dark eyes darting aside. “Lucio and Hana asked me to come. Said I needed to get out more.”

“I’m glad.” Ghost offered her his arm and she took it with a scowl. “what?”

“That hoodie is disgusting.” She plucked at his sleeve. “We need to buy you new clothes.”

“Oh, not you too.”  Ghost muttered as they joined the others. “No Lena?”

“She’s helping Winston build something.” Lucio said, shaking his head. “I think we’d all rather be in the air when they almost blow the base up.”

It was odd, Ghost thought as he watched Zenyatta and Genji chat by the boarding ramp. He felt too inexperienced half the time to hang out with Ana and the other “Originals”, but he felt far too old to be going on a shopping trip with “the kids” – even if Genji didn’t technically fit the bill anymore. But they were herding him aboard, chattering all the while and for a moment, it was nice to just let himself be shoved in a seat and told to strap in.

~~

“It’ll be a little late when we roll in, but I know this amazing seafood place right near the ocean.” Hana went on, and Ghost couldn’t help but smile at her excitement as the jet rumbled around them. “Also, there just MIGHT be a party and I dropped a hint to some folks that I was only bringing the best DJ on the planet.” She nudged Lucio, who just laughed. “And there’s a great hotel and tomorrow I have a photoshoot to do, and then shopping. I have lists for SOME of you.” She gave Ghost a pointed look.

“I didn’t expect quite the itinerary.” Satya spun up a energetically working rabbit out of light and Hana grinned.

“You know I like to keep busy. And people get nervous in the downtimes, so it’s good to have fun when you can.”

“The downtimes?” Ghost sank down into the black hoodie he wore, trying to place the association. He picked at a frayed hole in the BDU pants he wore, wondering how he was going to afford all the clothes Hana had already picked out for him.

“The omnic that keeps threatening my homeland- it comes back almost on a schedule. We drive it back, it stays away for a while, then it comes back, reconfigured, and tries again.” Hana shrugged. There’s usually a year or so in between assaults, but it’s impossible to find and predicting it is… not exactly accurate. “

“But your family, everyone, still stays in Busan?” Ghost asked, too many memories of cities Jack and Gabriel had seen flattened during the omnic crisis poking at the back of his brain.

“It’s their home. And we’re there to protect them.” She jingled the little MEKA charm on her mobile phone, then frowned. “I’ve been trying to text dad, but he’s not answering. I swear, if he let his phone die again…”

“I think it might be more than that.” Genji’s voice drifted back from the cockpit. “ There’s no communication from Busan for our vectors.”

They gathered at the doorway to the cockpit and Hana traded places with Zenyatta, the omnic tilting his head in a way that Ghost had come to associate with concern.

Hana quickly switched comms to a military channel in Seoul. [This is Lieutenant Hana Song with MEKA,  inbound to Busan, flight Oscar Wilcox One-Niner-Bravo. Busan control is not responding, can you assist?] She said briskly.

There was a burst of static, then a broken transmission in anxious Korean shuddered through the speakers. [Please hold on.] Hana replied. [Switching comms to translation mode for my teammates.]

“Lieutenant Song.” The translator voice came a fraction of a second after the speaker’s words. “This is Major Park, we’ve been hit with some sort of a low-grade EMP – communications and power are disrupted all over the country and...”

Ghost grabbed an extra comm headset. “Athena, this is OW19B, we need satellite imaging for the Busan coast right now.”

“At once, Comman... Agent Morrison-Reyes.” Athena corrected herself midsentence and Ghost bit back the awkward pang in his chest. “Imaging up.” 

“It’s early.” Hana stared at the massive shape appearing on the thermal imaging. “It’s too early.” Quickly, she tried to raise Major Park again. “Sir, the omnic, it’s...”

“..lost contact with MEKA orbital drop.” The Major’s voice crackled through the comms. “Still trying to reestablish...”

“I’m coming, Sir, and I’m bringing help. Overwatch is here.” Hana said, glancing at the others. “There’s supposed to be a MEKA for me to use in a photoshoot tomorrow.”

“Weapons aren’t live on it, for safety, Song.” The Major sighed.

“Just get it to Busan. We’ll be there within the hour.”

“And then what?” Lucio asked, frowning at the visuals.

“We need a plan.” Ghost wheeled around. “Let’s get to it.”

 

~~

 

“The entire area around the coastline is in complete blackout.” Hana brought up the imaging on the small war table in the cargo hold. “People are trained to evacuate, but it’s difficult.”

“Also, it’s kicking up increasingly large waves as it approaches shore.” Lucio added. “It’s going to flood to closest areas long before it makes landfall.”

“So, we need to stop the flooding so everyone can evacuate and we need to slow down the omnic until Hana’s people can get their units back in the air.” Ghost spread his hands on the table.

“We need a Reyes plan.” Genji joked gently as he fished around in a locker. “Not a Morrison plan.”

“We need an inventory. I can generate my weapon and armour, but that’s not enough.” Ghost glanced at the rest of them.

“I can still create lightforms, but I don’t have a weapon.” Satya  rocked on her feet, not looking up from the satellite images.

“I didn’t bring any gear, except for some sound stuff in the back for Hana’s rave.” Lucio rubbed the back of his neck.

“I brought a spare set of armour and a sword because it pays to be prepared.” Genji said triumphantly freeing the case from it’s hiding place. “And master packed some of his balls.”

“Orbs.” Zenyatta did the verbal equivalent of an eye roll. “I find them meditative on long flights.”

“Ok. Job one.” Ghost looked across the table. “Satya, Lucio. Find a way to slow down that flooding.”

The two looked at each other, eyes widening. “I think I have an idea, but we’re gonna need power for it, and Busan’s in the dark.”

“Use the jump jet’s generators.” A swirl of grey mist tumbled around Ghost as the nanomachines that made up his body shifted his clothes to his armour. “Use whatever you need, just make it happen. Zen, will the idiot ball work on something that big?”

“Orb of Discord.” Zenyatta said without missing a beat as he helped Genji fit on his plating. “And … it’s designed to operate on a much smaller scale. If we can get it near our giant friend’s brain centre, then perhaps, but otherwise…”

“Ok. Lucio and Satya will handle trying to save the city from drowning, and Hana… what’s the weight capacity of an unladen MEKA?” Ghost fit his mask on so she wouldn’t see his growing panic.

“Why.” Hana glared back from the cockpit. He didn’t speak Korean, but with the ongoing conversations with her superiors, there was less tension on her face than there had been a moment ago. So, her family was safe.

“I need you to drop the three of us on that thing so Genji can cut it open and I can drop zenyatta’s idiot.. orb of discord into it’s brain, so you can then lead the rest of the MEKA on an assault as soon as they’re airborne?” Ghost said without breathing and Genji groaned.

“We were so close to a Reyes plan.” He muttered, closing his visor.

“I can regulate my mass distribution, Genji’s like ninety percent polymers, and I’m guessing Zen has some antigrav function.” Ghost added helpfully.

“It’s not going to be a pretty flight, even if the show unit will take off with you three hanging on.” She grumbled, guiding the jet into it’s descent. “But it’s a better idea than nothing at all.”

“Then let’s Overwatch the hell out of this.” Ghost tugged his hood up. “Intercept in fifteen.”

~~

There was a military transport waiting with the MEKA as Hana set the jump jet down in a parking lot, enormous waves flinging water even that far inland. “Ok, team AV Club, what’s the plan?” Ghost asked as the little pilot jogged over to the unit to do a preflight.

“We’re going to build an elaborate breakwater system.” Satya said, looking as if she didn’t entirely believe her own words. “With a speaker system built-in.” She added, eyes darting to Lucio. “Lucio is designing schematics for me to work from.”

“I’m gonna set up a cross-amplitude wave form that should.. hopefully reduce the power of the incoming waves. Sym’s breakwater will channel the sound waves and disrupt the incoming water.” Lucio added, leaning in with a scowl. “You didn’t understand any of that, did you.”

“Nope. But I believe in you both.” Ghost slapped him on the arm. “Good luck.”

“Same to you.” Satya said, giving Ghost’s hand a little squeeze. “Don’t die again out there.”

Hana was firing the MEKA unit’s engines when a loud howl boomed across the water. “It sounds like it’s in pain.” Ghost said, and Zenyatta nodded slowly.

“I believe it is.” He said softly. “We should hurry.”

Ghost pulled his hood up against the winds rolling in off the ocean. “HANA, STATUS?”

“If we don’t crash and all die, I’ll be amazed, so let’s do this, suckers.” She grinned as she put the unit into a low hover. “Get in losers, we’re going to war!”

~~ 

Since his unusual birth, Ghost had been blown up, hit by a runaway payload, shot with more types of weapons than he cared to admit and was even once partially devoured by a vacuum cleaner. But he hadn’t once experienced the terrifying “bug-on-a windshield” sensation clinging to Hana’s MEKA in a half-vapour state he was now. Genji and Zenyatta  hung from the unit’s legs, and if Genji’s semi-incoherent noises over the wind and engines were any indicator, the other two were having a similar time.

“There’s still too much interference to stream.” Hana muttered over the comms as she swung in low, around the massive Omnic’s side. “You’re lucky, or I’d have Genji screaming all over youtube right now.”

“It’s not screaming, it’s primal meditation!” Genji shouted back.

“Terror is a perfectly natural reaction, my student.” Zenyatta’s normally placid voice sounded unusually tight. “Perfectly. Natural.”

“And you all wonder why I never leave the base.” Ghost grumbled as they neared dropoff. “I’m too old for this shit.”

“You’re eight months old, you do not get to say that.” Hana sniped. “Ok, scrubs, I’m getting weapons activity down there, you’re gonna have to walk the rest of the way.” She wrenched the MEKA clear as the first blast erupted from the omnic below, lighting it and the roiling ocean beneath in a brilliant flare of blue.

“See you topside.” Ghost said, flowing down to the omnic’s hull in a twirling, sooty-white cloud. “Clear, check in!”

“Zenyatta, clear.” The monk floated nearby as Genji landed hard and rolled.

 “Genji, clear and I hate you both.” The cyborg muttered, pulling his sword free. Above them, the guns tracked Hana’s movements, but didn’t fire. “It’s not firing. Why isn’t it firing?”

“It’s defending itself.” Zenyatta said, spreading a slender metal hand on the hull. “This cortical centre is this way.”

“If it’s defending itself, how come we’re not under attack?” Ghost pulled the hellblaster from a tendril of fog and ratcheted the ammo in place. “It looks like it’s covered in... are these drones?” He asked as they stepped around the numerous clear sacs that dotted the surface.

“They are…” The monk paused, wind whipping at his clothes. “Immature consciousnesses.” The lights on his face glowed softly in the dark. “And as for why we aren’t under attack…”

“None of us are human.” Genji finished as they crept forward. “Or at least human enough to register as a threat.

“Immature…” Ghost bent down, coat puddling around him. “Zen, are you saying these are babies?”

“Of a sort.” Zenyatta shrugged. “It is attempting to create sub-units. I can’t tell what they’re meant to be. It’s a troubling thought, though.”

“Oh god.” Ghost was grateful for the mask. The omnic lurched then, as the guns suddenly flared overhead, shaking the whole unit.  It was followed by that chilling howl again, and Ghost felt his entire nanomachine colony shudder in sympathy. “HANA??”

“Not me, we’ve got incoming fighters the military was able to get in the air from up north.” She sounded breathless. “Guys, I’m being told orbital drop will be re-established in under fifteen, you have got to get that orb planted and get out.”

“Here.” Zenyatta stopped them. “Cortical processing should be right below us.” He gently touched Genji’s arm.

“I will be swift and surgical, master.” Genji’s visor flared green in the gloom. “Tombo-hime, guide my hand.” He whispered as his sword picked up the same glow. Ghost thought he saw the faint shadow of Genji’s dragon-spirit dance along the edge before he brought it down in a single, decisive slash.

The metal parted under the uncanny blade, and the omnic howled again, sending the three of them sliding. “WE HAVE A PROBLEM!” Genji shouted over the din, and Ghost scrabbled to his side in a fitful storm of ash.

The metal parted, they could see the intricate collection of mechanical workings, pistons and gears, the bones and muscles of a titan, moving under them. “There’s no way we’re fitting through there.” Genji said, green glow lighting the narrow corridor beyond the mechanical tendons.

“I guess this is my play, then.” Ghost nodded. “Orb?”

“I will activate it when you signal you’re at the centre. Be careful.” Zenyatta handed it to Ghost, and the young man sighed, before slithering down into the gap.

 

~~~

Ghost slipped in between the rapidly moving parts, trying to keep the orb balanced in his ever-shifting mass. He’d flipped his vision over into thermal and sonar imaging, everything taking on an unearthly green-white glow in his fractional vision. Once into the corridor, he allowed himself a bit  more solidity and frowned, finding himself face to face with a skeleton, half-embedded into a wall. “Guys. I just found human remains.” He said softly. “Sharing visuals.”

“There’s a nametag.” Zenyatta said quickly. “In Chinese. I believe these were omnium workers."

“There was an Omnium we brought down, outside of Yangchen.” Ghost examined the body, then the next, and the next, all trapped in workings and features that the omnic had restructured over and over again. “Oh, god, we never knew. We never knew this was even... that this even existed.

“You’re almost to the cortex.” Zenyatta said simply, as if he hadn’t heard Ghost’s musings. “Hurry, there is a great deal of activity out here now.”

“Ghost, what he means is the MEKA are starting a strafing run and we need to GET OUT NOW!” Genji yelled.

The omnic shook violently again, and there was another howl, this time so loud that Ghost shattered, dropping the orb before he could reform, scrambling after it in the shuddering corridor. It came to a stop near the badly damaged head of an omnic not unlike his friend outside. The skull was dented and the lights flickered intermittently from it’s crudely-wired perch.

The head swiveled just a little and said something to Ghost, first in a child’s voice in mandarin, then in a series of bleeps, like Bastion might.

[I am trying to get home. Can you help me?] It beeped out. [There is a war and I must get my crew home.]

“I can help you.”Ghost said, inching towards the head. “I’m Ghost. What’s your name?”

 [Deep Sea Exploration Platform Mazu.] It.. _she_ … beeped at him. [I am trying to get home. I have made new units, and they need to go home with my crew. There is a war, and I am concerned.]

 “Mazu, your home. It isn’t there anymore. The war’s been over for a long time.” Ghost set the orb near the head.  “Zen, if we could get her to Shamballi, would she be ok there?”

 “I think so, but we don’t..” He paused. “She’s so badly damaged, the orb isn’t affecting her. But she’s in such pain, from so many reconfigurations..”

 “Sym, are you listening, can you reconfigure the breakwater into a transporter? Link up with the one at the monastery?” Ghost didn’t let him finish, as Mazu trembled under the onslaught, sparks flying from ruptured power conduits, the pistons and gears screeching as she marched ever forward.

 Satya’s reply was muffled under the sounds of the battle and the eerie pounding of Lucio’s crossfade “Impossible. To create a quantum portal big enough to transport that would blow out the national power grid. We’d be putting millions more lives at risk.”

 [I am trying to get home.] Mazu beeped plaintively. [My crew needs to return home. I have to protect my crew.]

 “Mazu, you can’t go this way.” Ghost pleaded. “You’re going to hurt so many humans if you keep going in a straight line. Your crew is safe, you have to stop.”

 “GHOST WE NEED TO BAIL!” Genji yelled into the comms. “GET OUT NOW!!”

 “I can disassemble her, store her, reassemble her in Shamballi.” That was a Morrison plan, and he could almost hear Gabriel yelling about bad tactical thinking the moment he said it. “I’ve never tested the upper limit of how much material I can reconfigure.”

 [I want to go home.] Mazu beeped softly.  [My crew and I saw so many things under the sea.]

 “Mazu, I have a friend, Mei, who you can tell all about what you saw. I’m going to help you so you can tell her.” Ghost inched towards the skull as the omnic’s body listed violently from the onslaught outside. “I won’t let anyone hurt your crew. Will you let me take you home?”

 Mazu beeped a soft affirmative and Ghost’s jaw twitched under the mask. “Hana, are they starting their final run?”

 “Yes. Ghost, Genji and Zen are clear, but you’re not going to…” Hana’s voice was tight.

 “It’s ok. I got this. Tell them to do what you all need to do.” Ghost said as he placed his hands on Mazu’s fractured skull. “Mazu, this is going to hurt for a second,but it’s all going to be over soon.” He felt the wings begin to unfold, gold and black, as he triggered his ult, light filling the cramped cortical cavity. “It’s only gonna hurt for a second.”

 When the final missiles hit, Ghost was a surging cloud of light and shadow in the heart of the firestorm.

 

~~~

 

He didn’t remember the explosion, or the hundred foot drop to hit the surface like slamming into a wall at speed.

 His damage HUD flashed in the corner of his vision as he came to, sinking fast into the dark, churning sea, and for a long moment, Ghost couldn’t parse the green light flickering towards him.

 He curled in on himself, watching bits of ash flake away, flickering gold dying as they faded into the dark. No lungs to fill with water, but it was easy to fall until the green was stinging his eyes. Genji dragged him to the surface and Ghost wheezed a breath, even though he didn’t have to. “Genji??”

 “Ana would kill me if I let you drown.”Genji laughed, visor sparking with amusement. He covered Ghost’s head as debris continued to rain down on them as they tread water. “Not to mention McCree- he’d have no one to watch those awful telenovelas with.”

Zenyatta was floating placidly above the water and gently pried Mazu’s battered head from Ghost’s death grip. “She’s damaged, but if we get her back to the monastery, she’ll be safe.”

 “I’m never going on vacation ever again.” Ghost leaned back against Genji as Hana’s MEKA flashed overhead in the rising sun. “I don’t care how good the pants are.”

 

 


End file.
